LYING          
           IN   MY   ROOM,          
  ARMS FLOPPED OVER THE EDGE OF THE BED. 
      SOMETHING  POKING MY LEFT  HAND, 
                 SOMETHING      SLIMY, 
      SLITHERING AROUND  THE  FINGERS, 
          UP   THE   ARM.           
 IS  IT   DRUG-FUELED   APATHY?        
         I   DON'T   MOVE   THE   ARM. 
                                 
 WHATEVER IT IS THAT'S TASTING ME,     
 IT   MOVES   FURTHER   UP,            
 REACHES    THE    ARMPIT.             
 I  TURN   MY  HEAD  TOWARD  IT.       
            LOOKS    LIKE    SEAGRASS. 
        IT'S  KINDA  CUTE.          
                                 
     ONCE  IT'S  UP MY NECK AND ON  MY 
 FACE,    I    BITE    IT.             
      THE TEXTURE IS LIKE  THAT  OF  A 
 JUICY                          GRAPE, 
     AND THE  SQUISH TASTES LIKE SWEET 
                     CUCUMBER.     
    IT'S VERY GOOD.     AND I    
 SUCK    MORE   OF   IT   IN.          
            CHEW    IT.             
    THE SEAGRASS DOESN'T SEEM TO MIND. 
                                 
     APATHY  GONE,  I   SIT   UP.     
     THE TENDRILS ARE STUCK UNDER     
    MY  SHIRT,   ENTERING BY  THE ARM 
 AND  EXITING  THROUGH  THE  COLLAR.    
   THIS MAKES  IT  HARD FOR ME TO  PUSH 
 MORE  OF   IT   IN   MY   MOUTH.       
   I MAKE TO REMOVE THE  SHIRT, BUT THE 
 SEAGRASS FINALLY PROTESTS WHEN I  TRY TO 
 MOVE     MY     LEFT     ARM.          
     SO  -  EATING   IT   IS  OK,     
        MOVING IT IS  NOT.